Blackbox
by Graysi
Summary: Tori told her what he said - a surfing accident. Sure, likely. But she can't blame Tori. Tori just didn't know. It's cold outside but she's been searching for him still for about half an hour. He has to be somewhere. She's leaning against the wall of the blackbox theatre and she suddenly feels the urge to scream at the unfairness of it all. He promised. .Bade & friends.


_Hi so I usually do _not_ like stories like this because it's nearly always Jade in this situation and Beck just fixes her simply by telling her he loves her and she's beautiful and this and that. So hopefully it'll be a little different if it's beck. If you don't like it just let me know, these stories aren't usually my cup of tea either. Feel like getting depressed? Well read on! lol... sorry. It's just came to me..._  
_I don't own Victorious._

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He flips up the little blunt blade on his army knife. And slams it down. And repeat. Up down. Up down. The hard snaps are satisfying. It's almost a compulsion. Up down. Up down. As an actor and a new found love of directing, he loves this moment; it's silence; it's rawness; it's… potency. Even though his eyes feel unconditionally fixed on the movement of the blade and he's feeling so despondent and distant, he is still assessing the best angle he would film himself at and how the camera would slowly pan across the room until the would rest up his boots. He likes the location as well – dark, small. He wonders if he'll get the chance to film it.

The black box theatre is named accordingly; black walls, dark oak flooring, black drapes hanging from the walls. It's his kind of scene – just throw him a guitar, a camera, a mattress and he'd be sorted for life. But he can't do that he knows. He can't sort his life that way – it's just not going to happen.

Up down. Up down. He likes the silence but he longs for the distraction of noises. He can think too much now. Things he doesn't want to think. His knife is old, it's rusted. The red plastic covering is chipped and scratched but he likes it, it gives character.

The door bursts open and she's standing there, with the most indescribable expression. But God loves a trier. She's looking at him like she's terrified of him or furious with him. Like she's just woken up from a coma and forgotten… forgotten who he is, where she is, what's going on. Like she doesn't trust him. Like he hurt her in the most unforgivable way. Like she's staring in the face of the man who burned her whole family to death. It's piercing and seems to physically throw guilt directly into his heart. He automatically wants to apologise.

But he knows why this look's on her face. He wishes she didn't know to come. Sometimes it would be easier to have a stupid girlfriend. Jade was too intuitive for her own good.

She's still standing there and looking at him with that shattering expression and he's still sitting at the edge of the stage. They won't say anything. Her eyes are blue flames. _Sorry babe. Please don't be upset. _But she is. Her eyes are still so hurt or so livid – he can't tell which. Both, always both.

Eventually, Jade's impatience wins out but all she does is close the door and step once to the right and slide slowly down the wall until she reaches the bottom. Her eyes won't look at him now as her hair has fallen, covering her face, her hands knotting in her roots for good measure. She's crying. Beck looks at her still and his thumb obsessively flips up the blade, up and down. Her legs are strewn to the side, her back hunched. She doesn't even make a sound, despite her intense sobbing, with the exception of her ragged breathing, hyperventilating. Panic, maybe. Or hopelessness. The image of a girl with no hope left, panic gone and forgotten, doing nothing productive about it. Just crying.

Beck watches her from the stage and notices how she's wearing a plaid shirt off his over her high-waisted shorts, her black top. Her doc martins on her feet were a present from him. She had kissed his cheek down to his jawline, down to his neck after he had laced them on her feet and he had laughed, pleased he could make her so happy. Now, couldn't be any more different if he tried. A sick joke gone wrong. Jade's silent sobs break out for a second and she cries out, though she's quick to silence herself, holding her breath. Beck can't stand it any longer. He sighs and gets up walking slowly towards her, his boots echoing the hall. He crouches beside her, noticing just how hard she's pulling at her hair, and the blood that smeared her hands from when she dug her nails into them. He winces, making a faint noise that didn't mean to come out, like a dog when you stand on its tail.

He wraps his arms around her and holds her to his chest, her slight frame feeling oddly fragile beneath his arms as her hands release her hair and grab his neck desperately. Her hands are cold like she's been outside for a long time and she gasps once against his chest._ Sorry Jade. I'm sorry. _  
"Don't" he murmurs, into her hair. _Please stop crying Jade. I can't stand it. Don't._

And she does but she wrenches out of his grip and pushes him chest so he falls back onto the floor.  
"Jade." _Please. I'm sorry._ His army knife slides out of his hand and skids towards her.  
"Shut. Up" she growls, malice echoing her words. "Don't you _dare_ tell me what to do. You sick _fuck_." She looks scary; black stains inking under her eyes, palms scratched, her glare disturbing.  
"Jade, please. Please don't cry." His voice is begging and it cracks a little. Sorry for the tears but not for the marks, Jade thinks bitterly. She bolts upright, unsteady on her feet and she looks too fragile for Beck not to wrap his arms around.

She steps back once.  
"Don't touch me!" she snarls furiously, and his eyes grow apologetic and helpless. So sorry.  
She has something in her hand and she holds it up to him. The army knife. Her hand is shaking.  
"You promised me." He voice drops to a whisper as it cracks and her eyes reproach him. _How could you?_ they say. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head like he doesn't know what else he can say. It makes Jade angrier. There is _everything_ more to say. She looks at him blazingly for a moment and then slams the knife across the room like a dart. The sound is satisfying to her.

"Jade." He tries to be reasonable again. That's Beck's thing, isn't it? Reason? Where is it now Beck then? Hmm?  
She doesn't answer and he posture is a statue, but her eyes glitter and break his heart.  
"Jade." He tries again. He's standing about eight feet away from her and he feels like they should be circling one another. He feels oddly vulnerable in front of Jade as she silently demands answers. "I'm sorry. I…" he sighs. "Never again. I'm sorry." Her eyes flash.

"And that's it? You promised me! To my face, you looked in my eye and said 'never again.' I swear, you tell me that _one more time_ I'll…." She can't finish her sentence. It doesn't matter anyway. "I want to see them" she tells him bluntly, quietly. She looks at the floor so she doesn't see him shake his head.  
"No, Jade. No." Her eyes flash up, enraged. He had no rights now, and he knew that too.  
"Time has passed for compromise. I want to see them." When he doesn't move she strides forward, grabs his wrist and tears his sleeve up. She doesn't suck in a breath but just stares at them – scratched red marks reaching his elbow, maybe further, like bodies lined up on the ground. Each, drive a bullet through her mind and she thinks she'll die from the pain, the guilt. And where was she when he picked up the army knife?

Beck Oliver has a lot of patience but when she doesn't look away after two whole minutes he gently pulls his wrist from her grasp and pulls down his sleeve. His hand softly holds hers and her gaze hasn't looked away from where his arm has been.  
"_Shit_" he mutters. She'll be off her food for a week now.

"Jade?" Unresponsive. Staring. "_Shit!" _he mutters louder this time, his face creasing up into a distressed grimace. His other hand strokes her hair swiftly and settles on her neck. He steps a little closer and leans his head forward until he's staring directly into her eyes, though not her eyes sight.  
"Jade?" he whispers loudly again, but she can't see him. "It will never. Happen. Again." And it makes her head snap up and look at him. Sparkling blue. She grabs her hand back and steps back so he releases her neck.  
"You fuck!" she screams now. "Never tell me that! Ever! You promise me things and I trust you for some stupid fucking reason!" Her hand whips out and slams his cheek with a satisfying crack. She freezes. He freezes. The theatre never looked so black. His eyes slowly revolve back to lock on hers and they look wet to her but she fucking doubts they really are. His expression looks so hurt but he has no reason to be. He's the one who does the hurting. Always. To everyone.

But she suddenly sees his left cheek redden and his eyes are so sorry. Like he'd give the world to take it back. He'd jump off a bridge to see her smile. Though was that not the problem? Her eyes spill over and she sucks in a ragged breath, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes, the other reaching out blindly for him. He moves to her instantly and suddenly he's there, letting her cry against his chest, her nails painfully gripping his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. Her sobs are making him wince and he hates it and he wishes he could just change everything. That he did it, that she knows, that he caused her to cry on a Wednesday morning, that his name's Beck Oliver.  
"Sorry." He whispers and he feels her nod. She cries like that for a few moment but she can't really stand crying and shuts up, pulling away to look at him. His expression is one to break hearts and he looks like he'd kill himself right there to apologise. So she takes his arm again, pulling up the sleeve and kisses each and every one – they do stop at his elbow. Thank God. When she pulls away, his eyes which closed, open delicately to look at her.

"It's okay" she promises, her voices patched and hoarse. "I get it."  
"I just… " He stares down at their intertwined hands.  
"What?"  
"I get so bad. It gets so dark and everything… Everything is just so shit Jade. Nothing lasts. People they… Sometimes I think people haven't even got hearts. No one gives a shit and nothing… nothing…" She grabs the sides of his face and looks into his eyes.  
"I give a shit." She enunciates, almost yells. "People are heartless. You think I don't what heartless is?"  
His dead eyes grow apologetic again and he takes her waist.  
"I'm sorry. I know, I know. I'm not whining, I know you get it tough. I'm just saying I think… that you just handle it better than me." She looks down, dropping her hands feebly to his chest.  
"Hardly. I.. can't do it. If you're not there." She's muttering because she doesn't like talking like this.  
"I wouldn't even bother with any of it." He responds. "If you were not here." And she knows what he means and in a way that makes her sick.

"Like if… if my dad said to me what your dad said to you last month. I couldn't… I really couldn't take that. Not like you… you and your think skin." She still won't raise her eyes.  
"It's not that thick." Which he knows.  
"God." He breathes after a moment. "Society is fucked up-"  
"Why'd you do it?" she breathes before he can finish. There's a silence. "It…" she's scared. "It wasn't because I… I told you that-"  
"Hey!" he cuts her off sharply, tightening his hold on her waist to make her look up at him. "Not. You" was all he said. Her eyes accept that.

"Then…?" A silence.  
"He –" He can't seem to go on but she gets it and her eyes turn cold.  
"She okay?" and he nods. "Just call the cops" but he won't and she knows was he won't.  
"It's fucked up." He finally finishes. Another moment of silence until he breaks it with "I love you." She nods.  
"Thanks."  
"Sometimes I don't think I love anyone. …_But_ you." She looks up and her eyes aren't shining the way he expects. His eyes widen a little.  
"Beck." She gasps. "Oh God, I have to tell you –"

Voices break out as the door swings open and Jade breaks apart, holding only his hand and ignoring Beck's unbroken look of panic.  
"Hi!" Cat trills, skipping silently over to them. "Will you _please_ tell Tori to let me use her phone?" she pleads.  
"Cat!" a voice whines. Tori's, of course. "I told you, no! You're just gonna use it to ring that boy in Australia. Do you know how much that costs?"  
"But his voice is so funny!" she laughs smiling at Tori, making her roll her eyes good naturedly.  
"C'mon Tori, just let her ring Andrew." André appeals, grinning. She turns on him.  
"No! You just want a free trip to Australia."  
"C'mon girl, I wanna go stroke the koala bears. They're so fluffy!" Tori sighs and strides over to Beck and Jade, noticing Beck's tense expression locked on his girlfriend.

Tori stops in front of them, confused. She looks at Jade and frowns, concerned, taking her arm and leaning forward.  
"Jade? Jade what happened?" André's head snaps up and stares at her. Cat's eyes are round and delicate, drinking in her expression, her dead eyes, her black streaks. She wipes them away fiercely tugging both hands from Beck and Tori.  
"Jade?" Tori presses, worried.  
"Nothing!" she snaps. "I'm fine."  
"Jadey?" Cat murmurs softly.  
"Nothing Cat. Just let it go."  
"Beck?" Tori looks at him for an explanation and he finally tears his gaze from Jade to glance at Tori. His expression is clear and almost uninterested.  
"She's okay." He reassures Tori, his eyes growing a little kinder, when three pair of scared eyes launch on him. "Don't worry about it okay?" Jade sighs heavily and Beck wraps his arms behind her. "We just had a fight is all. We're better now, aren't we babe?" He turns his head toward her cheek. Jade hates the dramatics.

"Are we?" she asks flatly. He kisses her swiftly on the cheek smiling and she can't stand his normality. Everything is _not_ okay.  
"I promise." He tells her. "I am really sorry." And she nods silently. She sighs and wriggles from his grasp to go over to Cat and shake her head, in rebuttal to her worry.  
"Everything's fine Cat" she promises and she can never tell if Cat swallows her lies or just pretends to. She rather likes to think the former. She can hear Tori hiss to Beck from behind her.  
"Beck! You sure she's okay?" And he must have nodded.

"Guys! The janitor's giving out those little chocolate mops again for Valentine's Day!" Robbie yells frantically rushing into the black box theatre, his top button on his shirt done up, his two strap of his bag as tight as they would go around his shoulder and Jade smirks to herself. Oh Rob.  
"Yay!" gasps Cat, who rushes out the door, grabbing Robbie by the hand and laughing, his feet flailing behind his in his desperation to keep up.  
Jade smiles a little but her eyes are still sad. She's reassured that her best friend would always be okay. No matter what. Sometimes she feels that her and Beck live somewhere else entirely, somewhere with black water lapping at their feet, and lightening threading overhead. She doesn't notice Beck's eyes are back, trained on her.

Tori turns to follow her friend but hangs back, biting her lip.  
"Jade-"  
"I'm fine" she insists, cutting her off before she slaps her across the face too because really, there's not many times that she's been worse.  
"C'mon Tori, let's get some chocolate mops" Beck suggests, putting a hand on her back before Jade starts crying or gets too slap happy. He takes Jade's hand with his other and guides both girls outside, being Beck, being the mediator, being calm and easy going and yeah-I'm-fine-don't-stress-yourselves, haha that's a funny joke Tori, yeah let's go out Saturday it'll be fun, my mom fell down the stairs again. Fake is what it is and Jade slides her hand from his walking behind them. Beck doesn't even turn, just lets her. Because he's fine isn't he? He's _fucking fine!_

And maybe her seething rage showed through her eyes because a hand grabs her forearm. It's warm and she looks up. André hasn't moved, hasn't changed his expression since he noticed Jade's tear streaks. He's troubled but there was something fierce to his hard gaze she doesn't get.  
"Why are you upset Jade?" he speaks low and robotically, demanding an answer. She looks to the double door but Tori and Beck have gone. She halts and runs her hand up the side of her face, closing her eyes in distress, until she reaches her hair and tangles her hand at the top of her head.

"'Dré." She moans, not knowing what to tell him because he would never take a 'nothing!' for an answer. They always had a pretty honest friendship. She needed to be okay before they could ever get back to normal and she always needed to see him smile. Which wouldn't happen if she wasn't okay and it was always just this cycle between them. That and going to the movies to watch thirteen hours' worth of films straight up in one go.

"It's nothing." She tries, but he isn't Cat who doesn't question her or Tori who listens to her lies. He doesn't say anything but continues to stare at her and she just looks down at the floor and breathes out a ragged broken breath, squeezing her eyes shut. And André again, doesn't say a word, just pulls her arm gently to wrap his arms around her neck and hold her head with one hand. She grabs the front of his t-shirt and holds it firmly. And maybe he does know, because he _is_ Beck's best friend and he _knows_ Jade and his steady grip is maybe telling her that he _gets it_, that he _knows_, that he's as scared to death as she is. But she doesn't want it to be _out there_ and ask directly so maybe she'll never know.

They break apart and look at each other hard and he is wearing the weirdest expression when he tells her:  
"It's all gonna be okay. Don't panic girl, everything'll be chill" in his earnest optimistic way, even though she thinks he doesn't know what's wrong. He's just one of those good guys, Tori's always going on about. She smiles and breathes out unsteadily, like his words are the absolute truth and she can't believe it's happening. She's not naive; she just wants it to be the truth. He smiles back and takes her hand and then walks outside, away from the darkness, the black water, the lightening and the black box theatre, to go get a chocolate mop from the janitor and act like that will make everything better.


End file.
